


A Database Built From The Ruins

by TheCrazyGeek



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, I normally write smut so this is off topic, Slow Burn, Will probably end up with smut, experimental piece
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Sole's relationship from the eyes of others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cait

**Author's Note:**

> This is more experimental for me, seeing as how I'm a 100% certified writer of filth and smut, so lets see if I can do romance..

 

_But the question is, what's a doll like you doing rescuing this old private eye?_

First meetings were supposed to be light-hearted; the chance of two strangers talking at a party, a person dropping their purse and a well-meaning helper picking it up and returning. He’d met Jenny at a diner when she’d been working and he’d finally picked up the nerve after several months of coffee orders to ask her on a date. Those had been, well, simpler times. There were no family to introduce him to new people here, no coworkers to encourage you to just ask the lady out –

\- and no human body to take them out with either.

It hadn’t been his first thought when the heavily-armed dame with the vault-suit unlocked his cell and let him out of Skinny Malone’s clutches. The first few microseconds had been checking this face against his internal database to figure out who’d he be owing favours to for the next month. The next few had analysed and identified her as a threat to others (and then some..) but not taking a hostile stance to him and thus he didn’t need to load any disarming routines.

The thought that followed those had been pure human, pure old-Nick: ‘ _Now that is a pair of legs that just won’t quit’_ and to hide that he’d fallen into the first line that sprung to mind. In reflection, the old flirtation personality hadn’t done too bad given the time and the situation but that knowledge was not stopping Nick’s internal thoughts from running over it again and again and again. _You could have been smoother, could have gone for an actual compliment since she’s by far the most attractive dame you have ever seen in two lifetimes, could have had her eating out of your hand if you’d said more, or less, or different, or…_

Old Nick would have blamed hormones quite readily for the excessive amount of time that this new dame was occupying in his thoughts but Nick the synth had no such excuse.

.......................................................

“Nicky! Yo, metal man! Stop ye droolin’ and git ye arse over here! I need a fuckin’ hand”. Cait was balanced on a ladder with one hand and trying to wrap a load of wire round a wooden post with the other. Yeah sure, settin’ up Sole’s little house-shack with a water-heater had been a grand idea for a birthday pressie but not when she’d been the eejit who’d ended up doin’ the wiring. She’d never fuckin’ accepted Danse’s excuses of why he couldn’t get out of that tin-can suit of his to help out and decided to call over a proper metal-man to show Canned Meat over there how it can be done. When the damn detective could stop staring after a certain ex-vault-frozen-arse for two fuckin’ minutes.

Okay, it was a nice arse. Sole wasn’t into the lassies though and Cait had drowned her sorrows with a lot of alcohol and then shagging Hancock fucking blind after her approaches had been rebuffed by the gorgeous lady from 200 years ago. Some of the other people Sole had gathered up were not as wise as her an’ Hancock though and hadn’t realised that if the lady wasn’t after you in particular it wasn’t worth moping. Take Danse the fuckin’ Prancer over there: tryin’ to flex his muscles inside a fuckin’ tin suit every time Sole came near. Or Deacon side-eying her from beneath whatever disguise he was trying out today. Least her and Hancock had just straight up asked Sole if she’d fancied a fuck and then just got on with their lives when she said no. And then there’s Nick with –

\- _oh good Mother Mary just ask the girl OUT!_ Cait would have stood exactly 0.1 seconds of someone looking at her like _that_ before asking them if they fancied a roll in the hay. It wasn’t the puppy-eyes that the rest made at her, the sickening teenage prancing an’ posing they all put on that made Cait wanna reach for the nearest bucket and throw up everything she’d ever drunk or eaten.

Nick’s eyes _burned._

When Cait had seen how Sole looked at _him_ in unguarded moments, well, that had been the first night she’d ended up in Hancock’s bed. Neither of them stood a fuckin’ _chance._


	2. Dogmeat

 She'd not left him behind in Sanctuary for weeks now - even after that business with Kellogg. Dames in his memory did not generally throw a freaking Fatman launcher at a man and tell him to "fucking nuke this son of a bitch if he takes me down" before drilling a perp in the head with a 10mm while the guy was _stealthed._ Nick did not mind admitting to a tiny amount of his processing time that Sole had scared several layers of circuits clean off him that day, for a few seconds he'd swear her eyes glowed more orange than his ever had. She'd laid Kellogg out and then ripped into him with a knife until he'd pulled her back.

"He's not going to get any deader" he'd said and stood stock still as she came straight for _him._ Christ she was terrifying. Terrifying and beautiful - like a mama tigress defending her cub.

Then she'd broken down into ugly gulping tears against his chest.

Weeks later, Nick was still replaying that scene in his head while some distant lost memory chuckled to itself.

......

Dogmeat loved Mistress.

Mistress was warm and scratched ears like happy and gave foods. Mistress let him curl up and sleep next to her so he could keep her warm and safe and nasty animals should fear him because he'd kill anything that hurt Mistress.

For a time it had just been him and Mistress and Flying-Clanky-Thing. Flying-Clanky-Thing made Mistress smile and didn't smell of danger so Dogmeat would let it live. Then Man-Gun-Smell showed up with lots of other people and it had got a bit scary for Dogmeat. He didn't like it. Too many smells too soon. But Mistress had built him his own little house right next to her bed so he could curl up there if it got too noisy and he loved her more.

Man-Gun-Smell talked a LOT though. When he talked Mistress would sigh and pick up her guns and call Dogmeat to her. He liked the trips. He'd kill bad things so they couldn't hurt Mistress and she'd give him first choice of the meats they found and he'd lick her face and she'd laugh and hug him and he'd grin and grin so happy. But sometimes Man-Gun-Smell should go away and stop making Mistress go out all the time. Even Dogmeat needed some sleep sometimes and Mistress couldn't run like Dogmeat so probably needed more.

He'd loved Mistress so much when she asked him to find smell on bad guy. He'd track forever for her. Ringing-red-yellow-velvet smell he found and tracked to building made her happy and he'd jumped around so much and loved. Then she'd sent him home and gone in with new person. Man-Coat-Metal.

They'd both come home to Dogmeat hours later - Mistress and Man-Coat-Metal. Mistress smelt of bad blood and Dogmeat tried to clean her but she'd gone off to clean herself. Man-Coat-Metal had sat next to Dogmeat and not said anything. Dogmeat liked Man-Coat-Metal who didn't try to touch him or make noises at him before he knew him. He'd watched the Man-Coat-Metal and his eyes that were like sun until Mistress came back and scratched his ears and happy and showed Man-Coat-Metal how to be friends with Dogmeat.

Man-Coat-Metal made Mistress smile. Dogmeat would let him live.


	3. Hancock

  "Don't worry, radiation can't harm a synth". Nick had been convinced that this was the case before their trip to the Glowing Sea; his investigations frequently led him to places no sane person would go and fallout was just a part of life in uncleared areas of the Commonwealth.

Sole had been dressed up in a salvaged (and repaired) suit of Power Armour for the trip and had badgered him for hours about him using the spare suit she'd found. " _Darling, I won't wear anything that doesn't have a suit, tie and fedora"_ he'd replied and said goodnight to her as she headed for her bed. They had to get up early for the trip and while he did not need, strictly, to sleep, he still found a comfy chair in the workshop in Sanctuary and let his memories take over. He'd do this on quiet days in the office, letting Ellie 'wake' him if a client showed up, and mostly it was of old cases with old Nick. Chasing perps across the city, seeking information, the elation of bringing justice yet again - he'd be in a great mood after.

So that night where all that his memories would run was his proposal to Jenny was, tiring. If a synth could be tired. He'd headed out to meet Sole at her little shack house and stopped dead outside.

Right there was the spare piece of power armour - all shiny and gleaming.

_With a tie round the neck and a hat on top._

It _had_ to be the excessive radiation of the Glowing Sea that day that sent his circuits buzzing, his coolant pumps hammering and his metal hand to shaking for hours on end.

 

.....

 

Hancock hadn't expected much of the wandering lady who came into Goodneighbour one lazy evening. Vault suit and leather armour on top (very _nicely_ though) - she'd looked far out of place. He'd made a quick decision to play the knight to her fair damsel and 'rescue' her from the scum who tried to get protection money from her as soon as she came in - hey, maybe she'd be grateful and he'd be able to get a ' _oh my hero!'_ fuck or two. He wasn't delusional, he knew with a face like his you took what chances you got.

Instead, the crazy lady had ended up charming everyone in _his_ town, double-crossed No-Nose, and ended up leaving the place with him in tow. Christ, what a week.

Life on the road with Sole was an adventure and a half. He thought he'd seen just about every kind of weird shit you could see in the Commonwealth in his lifetime but this dame was something else. Haunted museums? That was her Monday. Chem lab full of insane, tripping Gunners? Tuesday.

It was Friday night and they were all down at the Third Rail after he'd returned with Sole from a freaking _Chinese Nuclear Submarine._ Dressed in his best Mayoral duds and smooth-talking all their other companions into dressing up too, he'd booked Magnolia for a full set of songs and treated everyone to a free bar for the night.

Not free chems though. Hancock wasn't made of caps.

He'd sat, transfixed at Sole when she walked in in a frankly sinful piece of red sequin and heels that he'd love to see over his shoulders. He'd grabbed her by the hand and swung her out for a dance and she'd laughed and matched his steps perfectly. He'd pushed his luck and pulled her up for a slower number and she'd laughed again and settled her head on his shoulder.

_Wonder if she likes Ghouls..._ he found himself thinking. It had been a long, long time since he'd had a warm smoothskin against him and she felt right in all the right places and more importantly wasn't screaming or throwing up from being touched by irradiated skin. The dance ended and he sat her back down and went to get more drinks.

Magnolia was crooning the kind of song that makes people think of bedrooms and satin-covered sheets when he took a look back at all of the others sat there. Just about every single one was staring at the singer with various degrees of rapture.

Except two.

That synth detective, Nick, was staring at his hands.

And Sole, beautiful, wicked, laughing Sole was staring at -

\- Nick.

Hancock felt like he was experiencing a massive Jet come-down, followed by a surge of anger at why she wasn't looking at _him_ like that. He'd put on this whole freaking party and took her dancing and there she was staring someone who wasn't him and -

"Hey, Handsome, leave them to it yeah? Bet you've seen enough doomed romance in this dive tae last your life" Cait looped her arm round his and slipped some Jet into his hand. "What say we find a quiet corner, get fucking wasted an' see what happens?"

_Ahh well, it's an ill radioactive wind that blows no good_. He took the hand of the fierce pit-fighter and smiled. "You sound like my kind of trouble."


	4. Preston

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes I do run screaming from 'There's a settlement that needs your help' quests...ahem..)

Nick tinkered with a loose screw on his hand and flexed his metal fingers. Not strictly necessary but he’d smoked enough cigarettes to give a ghoul a raspy voice last night and he had to do something to pass the time. He couldn’t get any physical benefits from the nicotine of course; whoever had done his original programming had left Old Nick’s inability to sit still for five minutes completely intact, along with the old cop’s cigarette habit so it was just..natural to him. As natural as his voice or his jokes or his glowing yellow eyes..

A synth with a few quirks. Strange how you can completely accept everything you are one day and have it all called into question the next. He’d not really expected much when he’d mentioned about Winter’s tapes and his off-again/on-again search for them but not a day later Sole had dropped one of them into his lap and said simply “call it an early birthday present” with her marvellous smile. God knows how she’d managed to pick it up without him noticing – the two of them were fairly constant travel partners these days.

Ellie had initially raised concerns about the amount of time he was spending out of the office of course, but even she was just smiling every time Nick and Sole turned up to visit. Maybe she had a sweetheart at last? He’d been telling her to stop spending so much time with his old carcass and go out and have fun for a while now and perhaps she’d met a young stud who’d brightened up her days..

Nick smiled.

“Penny for them?” Sole appeared suddenly and plopped down next to him. “Or should it be caps these days?”

“These old circuits of mine are barely worth a tin can, darling”

Her hand swatted his shoulder. “Pure platinum to me sweetheart. Come on, I got a lead on one of those tapes of yours and I’d like to get out of here before Preston grabs me for something again.”

 

…..

 

General. He’d called her that and she’d been surprised as all nine hells but she’d done the job. Or had done. Ten settlements now had trade routes with Sanctuary and there were rumours that Sole was trying to work out something with Bunker Hill to get the trade caravans to stop at their main base as well. In three months the vault survivor had done more for the Commonwealth than Preston had done in his entire life.

 

Other men would have been jealous. Preston was just glad all that stress and worry was somebody else’s job. _Or had been._ The General had got it into her head recently to go searching through old police stations for something of Nick Valentine’s and Preston had just thought it would be a few days there and back and she would come back to her duties. There were at least six other sites Preston knew of that would be just _perfect_ for settlers once the ghouls had been cleared out and she’d handle them quick – creep in, snipe them all in the head, set up a transmitter and come back. Simple. He’d do it himself if he could get the time away from Mama Murphy and the others.

 

Sole and the detective had been gone for over a week though and when they’d returned she’d just had a quick wash, dumped off a load of new weaponry for the settlers on guard and gone to sleep in her shack for a straight 12 hours. Nick had been sat outside the whole time too and hadn’t answered any questions about where they’d been or if they’d been to talk to the settlers at the Slog like he’d asked or what about the people of Red Rocket-

 

-just sat and tinkered with things. Preston would have got really quite annoyed if not for how damn likeable the synth was.

 

When Sole appeared the next morning though in her full fighting leathers and sniper rifle; Preston felt himself smile. She was back in business. Maybe he’d get her to actually stay for a bit and they could share a drink and chat about all his plans for the Castle and-

 

\- “Catch you all in a day or two!” Sole shouted and waved farewell as she and Nick headed off. _Again._


End file.
